


Snuggling

by patchfire



Category: Glee
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Season/Series 02, preventing nonexistent hypothermia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2727455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't snow enough to go sledding every week, but Finn and Puck aren't bothering to use that excuse to get together on Saturday mornings. A sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1075875">Sledding</a>; written for day six of Fuckurt (And Its Subships) Advent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snuggling

Despite Finn’s smile and despite Finn’s agreement that they didn’t necessarily need the sledding in order to spend the afternoon in bed naked, Puck hadn’t really expected anything to come of it. He hadn’t expected anything right up until the moment a week later when his phone chimed with an incoming text, which had informed Puck that Finn’s house was empty, he had a few DVDs ready, and Puck should come over. 

Puck had gone without questioning it, and the weekend after that, since Finn’s house had been crowded, Finn had arrived at Puck’s house after a quick text to see if it at least was empty. Just like that, snuggling together naked in bed became their usual Saturday morning and afternoon activity. 

Just like that, Puck finds he really _likes_ this new addition to their relationship. They’re still friends at school, getting closer and closer to the best friends they once were, but on Saturdays, they’re something else, too. Puck doesn’t want to try to define it, and Finn seems to feel the same way, but there’s no way Puck wants to give it up, either. 

December passes into January, and the day after the state championship, Puck is lying in Finn’s bed, realizing that neither of them has a girlfriend. Neither of them seems very concerned about the lack of girlfriend, either, and Puck hasn’t even been thinking much about hooking up, which means he must be getting enough naked time with Finn on Saturdays. 

All of that is going through Puck’s mind just a half an hour or so before Finn rolls towards him, one arm going over him, and that’s not the first time Finn’s more or less hugged him while they lie in bed. It _is_ the first time that Finn’s been close enough for Puck to know if Finn’s got a hardon or not, and the answer, pressed against Puck’s ass, is yes. 

“Shit,” Finn says just seconds later. “Sorry!” He starts to pull away, but Puck grabs his arm and then moves his ass, pushing it against Finn’s dick again. Finn stops moving, and neither of them says anything. Puck can hear himself breathing heavily, but not as heavily as Finn is behind him. When Finn speaks again, his voice is small and uncertain. “Puck?”

“It’s fine,” Puck whispers. “It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you.” He’s not sure what the limits of his permission are, but he moves his ass again deliberately, this time more like the girls he’s fucked have moved their hips, and it feels awesome, better than he would have ever guessed. 

Finn must agree with him, because he bites off a short moan and then starts moving with Puck. Slowly, without either of them saying anything else, they find their rhythm, Finn’s hands holding onto Puck while his dick presses against Puck’s ass repeatedly, sliding against it just enough for Puck’s own dick to get hard. Even when Puck’s thought about guys, he never really thought about being the one who was getting fucked, but Finn’s dick against his ass is making him think about it, and making him think that maybe he’d like it after all. 

Finn starts moving faster, and Puck moves his hips, trying to encourage him, which Finn seems to like, because it feels just like seconds later when Puck has Finn coming on his ass. It’s hot and wet and Puck’s pretty sure he should think it’s gross, but he decides within a couple of seconds that it’s actually pretty awesome. It’s awesome enough that he reaches down and starts jerking off, tugging on his own dick for less time than he should admit before he’s coming all over Finn’s sheets. 

The two of them just lie there, still touching, and Puck focuses on the sound of Finn’s breath again. Whatever the nakedness was, this is something altogether different again, and Puck’s not sure he wants to be the first one to speak. 

“That was awesome,” Finn says very quietly, and Puck lets himself smile. 

“We could do that again, too,” Puck says, and he can practically feel Finn grinning and hear his head nodding. 

“Yeah. We will,” Finn says. That’s the last they mention it, even though Puck leaves behind a stain and has to creep to the bathroom to wipe himself off before he leaves the Hudson-Hummel house. They don’t talk about it all week, either, and when Puck sends Finn a text on Saturday morning letting Finn know he’s got the house to himself, he doesn’t mention it. 

They don’t even touch for the first fifteen minutes Finn is there, both of them almost gingerly on their backs, until Puck mentally decides that fuck it, he wants Finn’s dick on his ass again, and he rolls onto his side. His ass is closer to Finn than the rest of him, and he feels like he’s holding his breath for the entire count of one-hundred-six that it takes for Finn to move, too. 

Puck counts all the way to one-hundred-sixteen before Finn finishes rolling onto his side and then pressing against Puck. Finn’s dick is already hard when it makes contact, and Puck moves his ass almost immediately, just enough, he hopes, to encourage Finn. Whether or not Puck needed to move, Puck isn’t sure, but Finn’s hand lands on Puck’s hip as he starts moving, rubbing his dick up and down on Puck’s ass with varying amounts of pressure. 

Neither of them says anything or makes any noise, which means Puck can hear Finn’s breathing while he feels it on his head, and he can hear the slight squeak of the bed and the rustle of the sheets. Puck tries not to think about what any of it means beyond the fact that it’s somehow the hottest thing he’s done, even hotter than the kinky shit some of the pool cleaning clients have wanted, and he’s incredibly hard without anyone even touching his dick. 

Finn keeps rubbing against Puck, and Puck has enough time to think that maybe it’d be better with lube, and then decides not enough better to stop to get any. He doesn’t have much more time than that before Finn lets out a very quiet moan and comes on Puck, and this week, Puck takes even less time to jerk himself off before coming. Finn’s hand slides off Puck’s hip, slowly enough and limply enough that Puck thinks it’s probably not even a voluntary movement, but it brings Finn just a little closer, and the entire effect is that Puck feels like he’s being cuddled. Snuggling, even. 

Snuggling isn’t something Puck does. Santana was definitely against it, Quinn had run away horrified as soon as they’d both come, and the housewives with pools always kicked Puck out as soon as possible. Somewhere along the way, Puck had decided that all of that meant he was someone who didn’t snuggle or cuddle, but he’d never actually tried it. 

It’s comforting, Puck decides, and a lot more awesome than he would have thought it would be. It’s so awesome and easy, in fact, that Puck drifts off to sleep. He can tell when he wakes up that he wasn’t asleep for very _long_ , but when he twists his head around, he can see Finn’s sleeping too. 

Puck glances at the clock and decides not to worry about waking Finn up. Finn’ll probably wake up on his own before anyone else gets home, and that’s exactly what happens. Finn stretches and then freezes, and Puck starts to say something before Finn’s hand pats his hip twice and then withdraws. Finn yawns, and Puck almost jumps when Finn speaks. 

“Mom wants me to do some chores this afternoon. I’ll see you tonight?”

It takes Puck’s brain a few seconds to catch up, then he remembers the party at Rachel’s, and he nods. “Tonight,” he says, and he doesn’t turn to look as Finn gets dressed and then leaves. Finn hadn’t watched him, after all, and Puck isn’t sure how _looking_ at each other afterwards would change things. 

But they don’t look at each other, and the next time Puck looks Finn in the face is at Rachel’s party, with plenty of other people around, and nothing changes at all. Nothing, except when he texts Finn the next weekend, he adds ‘bottle’ll make it better’ and then leaves some KY in a bottle out on the table next to the side of the bed where Finn usually lies. 

Finn doesn’t comment on it and doesn’t comment on Puck’s text either, but he does start out by outright cuddling with Puck. They don’t say anything, watching the movie Puck turned on, but Finn’s pressed up against him, one arm around Puck’s waist, and another ten or twenty minutes pass before Finn starts moving, still silent. Puck doesn’t even hear the click of the KY bottle over the movie, but he notices Finn moving away for just a few seconds before his dick is pressed against Puck again, this time with a thin coating of lube. Puck realizes he was right about the lube making it better, because the drag is reduced and Finn can move faster. 

Puck leaves the movie playing in the background, more because he can’t figure out a way to reach the remote without moving away from Finn, and he makes a mental note to make sure he can mute the television from now on, because he wants to hear Finn, not the movie. He still can, barely, if he focuses on Finn’s breathing and the slap of skin against skin. This week, Puck reaches down, jerking himself off while Finn’s still moving against him, and the two of them come one after the other before lying there quietly, still watching the movie. 

That’s exactly how the next two weeks go, both at Finn’s house, with the volume muted as they— Puck doesn’t know what to call it. He wants to call it fucking, to think that Finn’s fucking him, even though that’s not exactly true. He spends the next week thinking about that off and on, until he realizes in the shower on Friday morning that he’s been avoiding even thinking the truth: he wants Finn to fuck him. 

He wants Finn behind him, like he has been, and he wants Finn’s dick in his ass, and he really wonders what Finn’s hand—Finn’s much larger hand—would feel like, wrapped around Puck’s dick. It’s not something that Puck expected to be thinking about, much less fantasizing about, but that’s what he does, closing his eyes and jerking himself off in the shower while thinking about Finn and about Finn fucking him, and when Puck comes and the shower water starts to get cold, Puck realizes he has a few decisions that he needs to make. 

First of all, he has to decide if he’s going to mention it to Finn at all, and if the answer to that is yes, it opens up a bunch more questions that need answered. How to mention it, for starters, and what he wants out of it. Because he knows Finn, knows Finn maybe better than Finn knows himself, and he’s pretty sure that having sex with Finn and expecting it to be nothing else would be cruel. Which means that deciding if he’s going to mention it to Finn might not be first, after all. What might be first is deciding if he wants more than sex with Finn.

Puck isn’t sure of the answer to that question, or at least that’s what he tells himself the rest of Friday and into Saturday, and even while Finn’s dick is against his ass, Puck tells himself that. Right after they both come, though, and Finn drapes his arm around Puck, pulling Puck _closer_ to snuggle with him, Puck realizes that telling himself he doesn’t know the answer is a total lie. 

Finn _wants_ to snuggle with him. Finn _wants_ to spend time with him. If Puck woke up with a free day and money to spend, he’d call Finn first, and probably not anyone else. He wants Finn, and Finn wants him, and that means the answer to the question is definitely yes. He just has to decide if he’s going to mention it to Finn. 

Puck seriously considers _not_ mentioning it to Finn. For one thing, the last thing Finn probably needs is getting entangled with a screw-up like Puck, and as much as Puck would try harder than he’s ever tried at anything not to fuck things up with Finn and not to hurt Finn, Puck sometimes feels like him and fucking things up is an inevitable pairing. He doesn’t want to fuck it up and hurt Finn, which Puck thinks should count for something, but he doesn’t trust himself. If he doesn’t trust himself, how can he ask Finn to trust him? 

That’s what Puck tells himself all week, and he thinks he’s doing a good job covering up all of his thinking, until Finn rolls over as soon as he climbs into Puck’s bed, arms wrapping around Puck. “You okay?” Finn asks softly. “You’ve been a little out of it this week at school.”

“Just thinking a lot,” Puck says honestly. 

“Yeah? Nothing bad, right?”

“Trying to decide about something,” Puck admits. “About something I want. Just ’cause I want it doesn’t mean it’s a good idea for everyone involved, you know?”

Finn’s quiet for a long time, so long that Puck thinks maybe Finn’s figured it all out and is just deciding how to let Puck down easy. “If you’re that worried about it, that’s a good sign, right?” Finn says finally. “Like, if you’re that aware of it, I bet that means you’ll make sure it’s a good idea for everyone. What is it?”

Puck is quiet for even longer than Finn was. It’s a perfect opening, one part of his brain tells him, but the rest of his brain is screaming that he should at least get one more Saturday out of it before Finn puts an end to everything. It’s horrible of him, and he’s sure Finn will feel used, but he can’t imagine Finn saying no and still letting them have Saturdays in bed together. 

He just wants one good memory to go out on. 

“It’s—” Puck sighs. “I’ll tell you later in the week. Okay?”

“Promise?” Finn says, and Puck can almost hear the little half-smile he bets Finn is making. 

“Yeah, sure, promise,” Puck says. 

“Good.” There’s a few moments of the two of them just lying there, Finn’s arms around Puck, and then the movie is suddenly muted, the sound of the lube opening almost echoing in the comparative silence. Finn pushes forward, his dick resting against Puck’s ass without moving for a few moments, and Puck almost sighs. It feels so _right_ , which should probably have told Puck something sooner, and Puck lets his head fall back, resting on Finn’s shoulder. 

Puck loses track of time. He loses track of everything except Finn’s breathing and Finn’s dick, and how hard Puck’s own dick is. The only difference than any other week is when Finn’s breathing changes and his thrusts get faster, Finn’s hand slides down Puck’s torso. Puck is confused for the few seconds it takes for him to register that Finn’s hand is going lower, that it’s approaching Puck’s dick, and then suddenly it _is_ on Puck’s dick, Finn’s enormous-by-comparison fingers wrapping around it. It feels every bit as awesome as Puck had thought it would, and then some, and Puck barely registers Finn coming as he starts to come himself, and his and Finn’s moans mix in the air in a weirdly harmonious way. 

Neither one of them says anything. Finn’s hand is still on Puck’s dick, and Puck lies there in Finn’s arms long enough to worry that his dick might start getting hard again, and he’s not sure if that’s awesome or embarrassing or potentially a little of both. 

Before Puck has to decide, Finn slowly moves his hand, and Puck can hear Finn wiping his hand off. Finn leans away, and Puck realizes why when what feels like a t-shirt or a towel wipes across Puck’s ass gently. The cloth disappears, something hits the floor, and then Finn pulls Puck close again. 

“You’ll make the right decision, Puck,” Finn says, and then he unmutes the movie. 

That’s the last of their conversation for the day, and it isn’t until Finn’s left that it hits Puck—the next Saturday is Regionals. Rachel’s been panting after Finn again, Quinn has looked interested, and Puck is pretty sure one or both of them will have some kind of song for Finn among the original songs they’re presenting this week. Puck’s not even been able to go through the motions of pursuing Lauren, and he wonders if he should bother trying to write an original song or not. He’s afraid it would end up being as obviously about Finn as Rachel’s will be. 

Rachel doesn’t sing her original song for all of them, insisting she only wants to present it to Mr. Schuester until the competition. Puck isn’t exactly surprised when Schue tells them one of their songs at Regionals will be Rachel’s. Puck writes two different songs, one that’s honest but not too revealing, and one that seems to be about Lauren, in case he punks out. 

 

He punks out, singing “Big-Ass Heart” and trying to ignore how stupid he feels, acting like he wants something he doesn’t, ignoring what he does wants. Finn stares at him after the song is over, looking confused, and Puck tries not to over-analyze that. Puck tries to just stop thinking entirely over the course of the week, in fact, and it even sort-of works. 

It works up until the moment that Rachel starts singing on Saturday, and Puck realizes that she’s definitely singing about Finn. Not only is she singing about Finn, Finn looks thoughtful, not repulsed. Puck carries a sinking feeling in his stomach the entire ride back to McKinley and as they all head inside for the pizza Schue buys them. He sees Rachel pull Finn out of the room, into an empty classroom, and as everyone else slowly leaves, Puck sits in the choir room, slowly and quietly playing the other song he wrote. 

Puck’s pretty sure everyone’s left, and his mind can come up with a pretty good picture of Finn leaving with Rachel, hand-in-hand, and he plays his song again. 

“Did you write that?”

Puck looks up at Finn, startled. “I thought everyone had left,” he finally says. 

“Did you write that?” Finn repeats. “It’s really good. It would have been good at Regionals.”

“Why aren’t you with Rachel?” Puck asks, more harshly than he intends. 

Finn shrugs. “I told her I had to think about it. She wants me, but that doesn’t mean… I thought about what you said. About is something really good for everyone involved.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know if me and her is good for me. Or for her.” Finn shrugs. “Can you play your song again for me?”

Puck nods, clearing his throat as he plays the opening chords, and he doesn’t actually look at Finn as he sings it through. When he finishes, he sits, head still bowed down looking his guitar, and waits. 

“It’s about someone?”

 

“Yeah.” Puck shrugs. “Just seemed like maybe too personal for competition, you know?” As soon as he says it, he realizes it sounds like he’s criticizing Rachel, but if Finn’s really maybe _not_ getting back together with her, maybe that means something. 

Finn starts to laugh. “I shouldn’t laugh,” he says after he calms down slightly. “But maybe you’re right. You going to talk to that person it’s about?”

“Maybe.” Puck wants to, but he can admit to himself, if not Finn or anyone else, that he’s terrified. “What are you going to do about Rachel?” Puck asks after he thinks enough time had passed for it to not sound completely related to Finn’s question. 

“I don’t know,” Finn says quietly. “It would be easy to get back with her. I’m not sure it would make me happy, though.”

That’s all that Finn says, though he stays in the room while Puck packs up his guitar, and the two of them walk silently out to the parking lot together. Puck nods and lifts his hand in a weird abbreviated wave as Finn walks to his truck and Puck climbs in his, and Finn returns the gesture. That’s all they do, no words spoken or skin touching, which Puck thinks is a very odd contrast to their usual Saturdays. 

On Sunday morning, Puck’s phone chimes with a text from Finn. _I heard it might be cold._ Puck frowns at it for at least thirty seconds before his jaw drops. It’s Sunday, and Finn wants… he wants them to act like it’s Saturday. It must not be empty at Finn’s house, because nothing follows the initial text. Puck shakes his head and grins a little, sending a response after a few minutes trying to decide what, exactly, to say. 

_I’d hate to be responsible for any cold-related trauma. House empty._

Puck doesn’t get a reply, just the sound of Finn’s truck ten minutes later, and then the sound of the door opening and closing before Finn comes up the stairs and almost throws himself on the bed after one of the fastest strip jobs Puck’s ever been around. 

“You never did tell me,” Finn announces after the blankets are pulled around them and Finn’s arm is lying across Puck’s stomach. 

“What?”

“Last week, you told me you’d tell me what it was you wanted. Is it… is the song about the same thing?” Finn asks. 

Puck sighs and then nods slowly. “Yeah. It is.” 

“Then you should talk to the person,” Finn says, and it hits Puck suddenly that Finn’s said ‘person’ both times they’ve discussed it. Not ‘her’ or ‘girl’, but the non-specific ‘person’, which makes Puck want to squirm and grin at the same time. “You should let them know,” Finn continues. “If you want something that much, and you’re thinking about it enough to make sure it’s good for everyone, you should take a chance.”

“Maybe.”

There’s a long, long silence, just the two of them lying in bed naked. Finn isn’t moving, and Puck isn’t really hard, but he feels comfortable, relaxing against Finn. Puck’s mind drifts, and then he thinks maybe he’s doing some kind of Zen meditation thing, focusing on the moment and only the moment. As soon as he thinks that, though, he can’t get it back, which is the problem with Zen shit in Puck’s mind. If you know you’re Zen, you aren’t anymore. 

“I called Rachel last night,” Finn says softly. “I told her that I didn’t think she and I being in a relationship was really good for either one of us, even though we sometimes _thought_ it made us happy. She cried and then said she thought that was very mature of me, then cried more and yelled about was I getting together with Quinn.”

“Also mature.”

“Yeah, I didn’t say that,” Finn says. “But I didn’t want her telling people that, so I called Quinn just to make sure everyone was good there. Quinn said she’s focusing on herself for a while. It’s weird, though, that Rachel seems to think that either she or Quinn should ‘get’ me.”

“I guess that’s all she knows.”

“Maybe that’s not what I want, though,” Finn says. 

“Don’t have to limit yourself to two girls as early as high school,” Puck agrees, probably too-casually. 

“I might want to limit myself,” Finn retorts teasingly. “But nah, not with them.”

“Stand-up monogamous guy.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Finn says. 

“No, didn’t say it was.” Puck sighs. “It’s a good thing.”

“What about you?” Finn asks. “That what you’re contemplating?” 

“Yeah,” Puck says softly. “I think it might be worth it. _They_ might be worth it.”

“Good,” Finn says, sounding uncertain and yet a little smug. 

It’s the slightly smug part that makes Puck shift his weight, looking over his shoulder just enough to see part of Finn’s face. Finn looks calm. When he sees Puck looking at him, his face shifts a little, like he’s waiting for something, but he still looks calm about it. 

Puck just stares at Finn for a few moments. Finn’s expression doesn’t change, and Puck nods once eventually before starting to move. It’s too late to go back. It was probably too late to go back the moment he grabbed Finn’s arm weeks ago, and it was definitely too late by the time he mentioned it at all to Finn. Puck’s body lags behind, but he can feel it flipping, following his face as his lips find Finn’s. 

Finn freezes for a few seconds, long enough for Puck to start to panic, before he relaxes against Puck, returning the kiss. Puck moves one arm, putting his hand on the back of Finn’s neck, and Finn’s arms circle around Puck, just like they were before Puck was facing Finn. Even though they’re both naked, they actually aren’t grinding against each other. They’re kissing, just kissing, and Puck slowly slides his tongue into Finn’s mouth. Puck knows he’s a good kisser, and he’s somehow unsurprised by how good of a kisser Finn is, too. Puck hasn’t tried to put a name to what he wants, nothing beyond that he wants Finn to be _his_ , and while they kiss, Puck realizes how good that is, to think of Finn as his and himself as Finn’s. He kisses Finn harder without consciously thinking about it, his fingers moving into Finn’s hair and practically holding Finn in place. 

“I was hoping,” Finn murmurs against Puck’s lips when they separate, taking deep breaths. “This is what you want? I’m who you want?”

“Yeah,” Puck says, barely nodding his head. “Just you.” Finn smiles at that, and this time, he’s the one who initiates their kiss. They spend the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon kissing, along with the same grinding they’ve been doing, both of them coming twice. They don’t really discuss anything else again, but Puck realizes, once he’s lying in bed alone, Finn getting recalled home by multiple texts from Carole, that they probably discussed everything necessary before they went beyond the first kiss. 

Monogamy? Check. 

Finn being who Puck wanted? Check. 

Finn hoping he was who Puck wanted? Check. 

Puck thinking Finn was absolutely worth it? Check. 

In the weeks before, Puck letting Finn know he was going to try really hard not to fuck it up, so it’d been something good for both of them? Check. 

Puck realizes that’s probably not a horrible foundation, but he decides not to mention anything about it at home, and he’s not sure if Finn said anything at his house, or what they’re going to do at school. 

The answer to the latter part of that question starts to become clear while Puck’s at his locker on Monday morning. Finn’s arm goes around his shoulder, which isn’t out of the ordinary, and Puck turns to grin at him. Finn’s grinning back, smile wide. “Hey,” Puck says, and he tries to ignore the slight hint of caution in his voice. 

“Hey,” Finn repeats. “This okay?”

“Lots of people walk like this,” Puck says. “Even if they didn’t, though, yeah. It’d be okay. If it’s okay for you.” 

Finn shrugs, trying to look unconcerned, and Puck figures that most people would assume he really is. Puck knows better, and he walks just that much closer to Finn, putting his own arm across Finn’s back, his hand on Finn’s opposite shoulder. “Yeah, that’s okay,” Finn says, smiling again. 

“Then we’ll just go with it,” Puck says, feeling almost as easygoing about it as he sounds. “You busy after school?”

“After glee club?” Finn shakes his head. “Why?”

Puck laughs. “Want to prevent some hypothermia?”


End file.
